Chapter 61 61- Do Not Let Him Win That Bet
LEXI
It doesn’t take me long to find the game. It’s exactly where it should be, tucked away on the shelf in the living room cabinet. I pull it out and set it on the living room table, lining it up neatly before turning to help Mum, who is grabbing chips and snacks to put out. She hums to herself while she works, clearly in her element. Because snacks make games about ten times better. I help arrange everything, nudging bowls into place and making sure nothing is too close to the edge of the table. Once that’s done, I head off down the hallway to find Dad and Blake. I don’t slow down enough. I practically run straight into Blake’s chest, momentum carrying me forward before I can stop myself. He reacts instantly, hands coming up to catch me before I can bounce off him
entirely.
“Woah, careful there.” He says, steadying me with ease. My hands are briefly on his jacket, my nose far closer to him than intended. I step back, laughing softly, cheeks warm. He doesn’t move away right away, though, he stays put long enough to make sure I’m actually steady. He’s kept a noticeable distance between us since we got here. Not in a rude way. More in a, ‘your parents are watching so I am keeping my hands to myself‘ kind of way. Polite. Considerate.
Controlled. But apparently not anymore? Just like he does at the Academy, he confidently takes my hand and hooks it over his arm, the motion smooth and practiced, like it never even occurred to him to hesitate. The contact is familiar enough that my body relaxes into it automatically.
*Show me this game then.” He says with a smile, easy and warm. I glance at my dad without really meaning to, half–expecting… Something. A look. A
comment. A raised eyebrow. He just gives an easy shrug, expression neutral but not displeased. Huh. Interesting.
Playing the escape room board game is fun. It’s not a competitive game, which immediately makes it more relaxed than a lot of the others we own. We all
work together to try to solve it, leaning over the table, passing clue cards back and forth, occasionally talking over one another as ideas spark and overlap.
There’s no arguing, no pressure, just problem–solving and mild chaos. We read the clues aloud and do our best to solve everything before the timer runs out. To be honest, my parents and I usually fail. We do solve the clues, eventually, but we tend to run overtime, double–checking answers, second–guessing ourselves, getting distracted by snacks or side conversations. Which is why I’m genuinely surprised when we solve the final clue with seven minutes to
spare. I stare at the timer for a second, then at the solution card, just to be absolutely sure.
“You’re good at this. It’s our best time yet.” I tell Blake gleefully, grinning as I look over at him. He smirks, leaning back in his chair like this was never in
doubt.
“I know.” He responds in a cocky tone. I laugh.
“Not very modest though. But I guess that’s fine.” I tease, poking his arm lightly. That seems to open the floodgates. Our single escape room game turns into a full games day, snacks steadily disappearing and being replaced, drinks refreshed, eventually giving way to pizza boxes spread across the table. My parents are both amazed and horrified when they realise that Blake has basically never really played any board games.
“Most of these games require more than one player.” Blake points out calmly, like this explains everything. My mum looks like she wants to cry.
“Well, now we get to teach you… It’ll be fun.” She says quickly, clearly trying to recover. I jump in before she can spiral into asking him awkward and deeply personal follow–up questions. We play for hours, switching games whenever someone suggests something new. And despite being inexperienced, Blake wins most of them. He’s competitive, strategic, and smart enough to pick up the rules almost immediately. He watches closely, learns patterns fast, and adapts
without complaint. It’s a little unfair, honestly. Eventually, I have an idea.
“We should play cards,” I announce. Blake shrugs agreeably, clearly unbothered by the suggestion, but both of my parents groan in unison. He raises an
eyebrow, glancing between them.
“You don’t enjoy playing cards?” He asks, clearly trying to work out what’s wrong with cards when they’ve liked every other game we’ve tried.
“Lexi likes to play the game Bullshit.” Dad grumbles.
“Some people call it Cheat or Liar. I don’t know how she does it, but that girl has never lost a round. We can’t get a single lie past her.” He complains,
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6:26 pm P ppp.
Chapter 61 61- Do Not Let Him Win That Bet
glaring at me. Blake looks at me with an amused expression, something knowing in his eyes.
“They do know that you can tell when someone lies, right?” He asks. I shrug.
“I wasn’t sure it was really a thing until you told me it might be. I didn’t think I even HAD magic until recently.” I remind him. My parents look horrified.
“Does this mean that she’s been cheating all these years?” My mother asks, turning sharply toward my dad. They immediately launch into a heated debate about whether using magic to tell if someone is lying technically counts as cheating. I sit there quietly, watching the argument unfold, vaguely amused. It’s not like I have a choice about it… It’s not something I can just turn off.
“I find it interesting, that your parents learn you’re a living lie detector and their only concern is whether you’ve been technically using it to cheat at a card
game.” Blake says dryly. I shrug again.
“My parents are fairly honest. It’s not like they have anything much to hide.” I point out.
“As I said, interesting.” Blake replies, watching them fondly as they argue.
We don’t end up playing Bullshit. My parents insist there’s no point playing when they already know who the winner will be, which feels a little unfair but also… Probably accurate. We DO end up teaching Blake how to play poker. We clear space on the table, shuffle cards, and explain the rules more than once. We all play for snacks, which immediately makes everything feel lower stakes and more fun. Chips, chocolate, and whatever’s left of the pizza get pushed into the middle as makeshift prizes. Blake has a great poker face. Dad’s isn’t too bad either, subtle, restrained, practiced. Mum’s is terrible. Mine is probably worse. I try to compensate by talking, asking questions, nudging people into saying something about their plans, their confidence, their bluff, anything I can identify as a lie or truth. It works beautifully on Mum. She folds every time she lies and I call it out with far too much satisfaction. I manage to catch Dad out a few times too, though he starts giving me suspicious looks whenever I open my mouth. But Blake? Nothing. He’s a steel trap. His expression barely changes, his posture steady, his movements controlled. Not a single hint escapes him. No flicker. No tension. No satisfaction when he wins a hand. It’s maddening. Eventually, the game comes down to just the two of us. The snacks are dwindling now, passed back and forth casually between hands. The room feels quieter without my parents‘ commentary, the clock ticking just loud enough to be noticeable. Realistically, Blake is better at this than I am. He’s more patient, more strategic. But I know the rules better, and I inherited enough from Mum’s terrible habits that I’m hanging in there out of sheer stubbornness. It’s getting late, so my parents excuse themselves to bed, leaving Blake and me alone at the table, cards spread between us.
“I’m going to win.” He says confidently. And the worst part is that the cocky bastard genuinely believes it. We’re between hands, so his confidence doesn’t even give me any useful information about his cards. It’s not a bluff. It’s just… Certainty.
“I could still win!” I protest.
“Unlikely.” He snorts. I glare at him.
“I could.” I insist. He just looks amused, entirely too calm.
“If I win… You have to watch my favourite super sappy rom–com.” I say quickly, seizing the moment before I can overthink it. Blake raises an eyebrow, considering.
“Fine. But if I win, you spend the next movie we watch sitting on my lap.” He says easily. My jaw drops.
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R Visitor
Blake now has parents who care…they just aren’t his birth family either
7 days ago
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
